


Angel's Hair

by paynesgrey



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e20 Five Years Gone, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-17
Updated: 2007-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/pseuds/paynesgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an unreachable light amidst their darkness. They're almost there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel's Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Season One. Takes place between the comic "Walls" and the episode "Five Years Gone".

They've both lost so much, and now they only have each other.

Niki dips her head down to the nape of his neck and tastes him with a gentle tongue. Peter closes his eyes and feels her, waiting for her to become just a bit more forceful, just like she always is. Her soft hands pull him gently over her, directing him on top. Tonight, Niki wants Peter in control; the tears drying on her face show she's not in the mood to play the dominant one. She wants to be held, caressed, and cocooned within him to shield the demons away.

Her light hair fans out on the black sheets of their bed, a shining gold that piques his interest. Niki's stark blond hair and glowing skin are the harsh contrasts among all the dark things they possess; the bed sheets, the pillows, their present, and their past.

In their future (just as dark) and with everything they've lost, they still have one another and somewhere in the blood and smoke and heartache and war they have something - an invisible force that pulls them together, entwining limbs, bruising mouths and squeezing thighs. Months go by and they still refuse to call it what it is because they don't recognize it yet. They don't want to put labels on it, this force that draws them together and provides their only warmth among the sick world.

If they give it a name, they may lose it. Niki doesn't want to lose Peter. She's already lost Micah and D.L. - and so many others.

And Peter's lost a lot too, and Niki remembers a time when the war of the world was still young, but Peter's heart was still pure. He isn't like that anymore, but she doesn't care for him any less. She understands his past is just as sullied as hers.

 _A husband, a child, an innocent, a niece, a mother, a lover, a life, a war - They've lost it all. "We've seen so many people die, and so many fights that have failed. Do you know what we are, Niki? We're losers."_

But they're not losers by themselves.

And when Peter laces his fingers through her bright hair, she cries from his touch and he thinks of angels. He thinks that some of them must be missing or earthbound, powerless and too broken without any reason to save. What sort of gods and angels would let the world be like this?

She traces a shaky finger over his scar, and she opens her eyes, tear-filled and searching for something in his eyes that he no longer has the power to give her. He's just as broken as she is, and they know this, and they can only go on living in obscurity until the world eventually turns to dust. Peter has saved Niki once, but Peter doesn't save people anymore. He doesn't help Hiro, and he doesn't help his brother.

Peter grits his teeth, and he moves against her, and white hot heat surrounds them - their energy absorbed by the black bed. Their bodies feel jagged against each other, like an imperfect fit, and they already know those meant for them are faded in the beyond, hope lost with them. But sometimes - _just sometimes_ \- he'll touch her, embrace her and trail soft kisses down her skin and his breath will sound like ancient music, and she'll sigh, and they'll feel it. They'll feel that maybe they can become one, beyond the barrier of loss - through the veneer of fear.

He lifts her arms above her head, and she arches toward him. He's scowling at her, and she watches him intently, and she sees the storming sea inside his eyes. She's allured. It's a storm of his fear, his regret, and his failure. And he takes it out on her, and she wants him to.

She breathes heavily now. He's shifted inside her, slick and fervent, and she becomes his refuge. He thrusts, and she hears her name on his lips. Her body slacks in relief. Sometimes it's different, so maybe today is a marker of change.

Niki clenches her muscles around him, and he grunts and she pushes herself, tensing her muscles and moving with his pace. She throws her head back and cries, and when her eyes open, she sees them in the mirror on her headboard, and she thinks they are both beautiful and pathetic.

Her hands trail down his chest and she's snaking her arms around him, holding on as he thrusts. His mouth is on hers now, and Peter's anger has subsided. His kisses are fierce and wanting, but then he turns tender, and he's sighing inside her mouth and tenderly taking in her taste.

She's squeezing and holding him tighter, and he grinds against her slower, and he leaves her mouth to breathe. He exhales, and his mouth gapes open and he's grunting, pushing into her one last time as he empties within her.

Niki coos and comes against him, and Peter stops to regain his breath. They're sweating but the air feels colder now, and he doesn't want to leave her body. Peter shifts his weight, and she's clinging to him, and he wraps her into his arms. She thinks he's gentle, always gentle underneath the scars, despite the torment and beyond the destruction. Niki kisses him lightly on his chest, and she snuggles her forehead against his toned muscles, inhaling his scent, so earthy and fully male. Her body releases the tension, and as his hands slide against her curves, she feels safe.

Peter leans in, kisses Niki's angel hair and closes his eyes to the brink of slumber. The afterglow warms them, and it is proof that neither of them is gone, and that there's something - _someone_ \- to hold onto.

"Peter, what do we call this? Every time? What is it?" Niki's voice is low, and it's coated with pre-mature tears. She's struggling just to ask him.

"It's ... I don't know. I've felt it before," he answers in a whisper, and he's scared too. He's afraid to call it what it is.

The war rages outside, but they're comfortably trapped here. An almost-paradise blanketed in silk shadows of the burning earth.

Kisses are soft; the embraces and touches couldn't be more _real_. They could say it's love, but what they've already lost has colored them with fear.

THE END


End file.
